Cacophony
by gschelt
Summary: 10 short songfics of Cameron/Thirteen femslash.


_**Author's Note:** This is my first songfic. 10 songs chosen randomly from my music player put on shuffle, and I wrote a paragraph or two drabble for the duration of the song playing. The points of view are alternating Cameron and Thirteen, starting with Cameron.  
(I suggest looking up lyrics to songs you don't know, to get the connections I made with the stories.)  
(I made Thirteen look bad in all these, quite by accident, hahaha. Please read and review review review.)  
_

* * *

**#1: Fruit Machine, by The Ting Tings**

"Here, have another."

She says it with a shimmering lip-gloss smile, features awash in the subtle deep blue neon lights. She's said it to me so many times. At least half a dozen tonight, and countless other times when we've met in this or other clubs. I don't ask her name, I don't know it. I pretend I don't. She plays the game where she doesn't know or say mine either, but neither does she ask the names of any other girl she's ever spent a night investing alcohol in. She just smiles and buys one after another, secretly and darkly purring deep inside, knowing it's paying off. Keeps feeding the coins into the machine, all she has to pull my handle and get the triple seven. She knows she's lucky, with a name like Thirteen she'd have to be. The state of my bedroom over the past few weeks is proof enough of her winning streak.

But tonight I don't feel like her slot machine.

"No thanks."

* * *

**#2: Thnks Fr Th Mmrs, by Fall Out Boy**

"Shit, Remy, what are you doing here?"

She gulps, startled, after unhooking the chain on the door and I edge through, unconcerned with her nerves. Backing up, she gapes at me as I push against her. Like she doesn't remember the way she used to love me fucking her rough and mean, almost like roleplaying rape.

"Remy, Robert could be home any minute-"

"Any minute is long enough," I snarl, my tongue ablaze with hot jealousy and uneven breathing. I take her lips in mine, wrenching her mouth open to force myself in. She tastes just like I remember, the same inconspicuous "fuck-me-now" salt coating her lips when she kisses back like you'd never think a good girl like her could.

"You shouldn't," she breathes, trying to fight the way I'm crashing on her like a brutal wave and she can't help but want a tsunami. Her fluttering eyelids betray her halfhearted words.

"Just one more time," I growl. I just want this one more time, one last shot in the name of her knowing just what she threw away.

* * *

**#3: Peace, by Weezer**

I can deal with her issues, I know it. She yells, she cries, she storms off misunderstood, she fucks me like an animal. She's on the brink of losing it to her berserk fear of literally losing it in ten years or so. She's like a bull in a china shop and I'm holding the broom and dustpan. I hold her and try to soothe her, I listen to her rant, I put up with all her baggage because it's who she is. But the strain on me doesn't go away. I take every hit she lashes out when she's panicked, and after some nights with her I feel like I've run miles. If it weren't for the Huntingtons this would be so much easier. She wouldn't be like this, and we could have peace.

* * *

**#4: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of These), by The Eurythmics**

I'd always dreamed of hooking up with someone like her ever since junior high. It was the stuff of my dreams; making her wet, unhooking her bra, kissing my way up and down her thigh, hearing my name both whispered and ripping hoarsely out of her throat. I'd been around the block a few times; I'd slept with a lot of women. But she was the highlight.

For a week or so she was the best sex I'd ever had. I'd go to her apartment after dark, let myself in, and we'd tangle like wild trapeze artists all night.

Then she was done with me. One day I went to work and she was back with Chase; done with their short separation period, once he was sufficiently jealous enough. She told me that we were never serious anyways, and asked for her key back. In the blur of the whole transition, I felt like I had been used. Picked up and played with just to make her boyfriend jealous and want her back.

I moved on, but somehow after her I became the user. Funny how one fling can change you.

* * *

**#5: Touchdown Turnaround, by Hellogoodbye**

She used to play football with the boys in the neighborhood. She used to roughhouse and scuff her knees and go places at the speed of light. Always laughing, always glowing, always walking in the other direction. Just out of reach. What was it about her catching a pass on the playground at recess that made me melt inside? What was it about her jeans and her loud laugh that made me want to be closer to her? I don't know. I was the shy girl. She probably didn't even know I existed.

* * *

**#6: The Way You Look Tonight, by Frank Sinatra**

Tonight she's pushed far. Tonight her hair's coming undone and so is she. It's late, she's tired, she moves about the ER in desperation. All she wants is sleep, I can tell. But as she mops her brow and leans against a gurney for a much-needed breather, I look closely and love exactly how she looks right now. Her eyes are glittering, her cheeks are flushed, her mouth is drawn, and she looks like a mess, but all of it is beautiful. She's beautiful. Something about her breathless animation is more intimate and lovely than perfect composure could ever be. Candid, the way she looks tonight, she takes my breath away.

* * *

**#7: It's Gonna Be Me, by N'Sync**

After she's done with me she makes up a lame excuse and bolts. A month of secret rendezvous' and casual, rough sex, and she needs out. I know she's like that. I know she's afraid of commitment, averted to attachment, and scared of loss, and I knew this was inevitable, but it still stings when she walks out the door. She says she can't handle monogamy, that it's her fault for being fucked up relationships-wise, that she didn't mean to lead me on, but this is just surface material of her real issues that she balls up and throws at me before she makes her hasty retreat. I know how afraid she is of getting close to anyone for fear of losing them or, even worse, seriously hurting them. Get it over with quickly to save pain on both sides, she thinks. She's right, it doesn't hurt as bad this way.

But someday I know her walls will crumble. Someday, she'll be open to love. I know it may be a long wait, but wait I will. Because when she's ready, I'm going to be the one who breaks down all her barriers.

* * *

**#8: With Or Without You, by U2**

She's beautiful, she's kind, she's selfless, she gives herself every day of her life. She's perfect in every way. I'm moody, I'm selfish, I'm destructive, I'm like a poison that ruins everything I love. I don't deserve her. I can't live with her.

I give her away, and I lose everything. I don't feel like the martyr I thought I would from letting her go. I feel lost and wrong and I can neither eat nor sleep. And no matter how many bodies I bring back to my bed night after night, it's still cold. I can't live without her.

* * *

**#9: One Minute Man, by Missy Elliot**

"I've never… done it… with a girl," I admit, with some difficulty finding the words.

She smiles and carefully removes my bra, pulling it away and tossing it away delicately. As she parts my legs and snakes her fingers up my thigh, she leans close and breathes in my ear, "You'll like it better."

I inhale and catch the warm smell of her skin, closing my eyes and gulping at the electricity of her touch. "Why's that?"

She smirks. "Stamina," she whispers.

Her expert fingers graze my clit, and I shudder instantly at the pleasure, feeling myself getting wet already. "What?" I manage.

"Us girls," she begins slowly, also slowly beginning to massage my clit, "can last so much longer. There's nothing for us to worry about _keeping up_."

The third time I come, I realize how right she was.

* * *

**#10: We Belong Together, by Mariah Carey**

Sitting on the couch before a crackling fireplace, she looks up from the flames when she hears the door quietly close behind me. I stand in the kitchen, fidgeting, as she looks at me in disbelief.

"What are you doing here?" she says hoarsely.

"I…" I begin with some difficulty, "I'm sorry."

Silence as she looks at me, searching my face through gaunt, exhausted eyes. The glow of the fire paints her stunned features. I take a deep breath and continue.

"I don't know what's wrong with me for taking off like I did. I had no right to say those things I said, and I know you're probably not ready to forgive me, but I just came here tonight to tell you how sorry I am."

Her face crumples in pain as she looks down at her hands. Still no answer.

"Listen," I start again, desperate. I move towards her, stopping short of the couch where she's sitting. "Ever since that night, I haven't had a decent night's sleep. I can't stop thinking about how bad I've fucked up. Everywhere I go, there's something to remind me of you. I heard our song on the radio night before last and almost lost it. I can't do this, Allison. I need you back in my life."

She stands up and throws her arms around me, crying silently. I squeeze her fiercely as she hugs me, shushing softly in her ear.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper.

"I know," she chokes. "But I couldn't handle it without you either."


End file.
